


Alive

by yorkisms



Series: Lazer Team Fantasy/Dungeons and Dragons AU [3]
Category: Lazer Team (2015)
Genre: Fantasy AU, Gen, Genre-Swap AU, Lazer Quest, and worldbuilding, backstory. lots of backstory., catfolk!Mindy, coarse language, fantasy discriminatory language out the ASS, half-orc!Zach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7850188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yorkisms/pseuds/yorkisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How things would be if you were to be free<br/>And how high you could fly if you'd really try.</p><p>Go tell the world we're coming, just a matter<br/>Of belief and space and time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Iiiit's the first prequel fic!
> 
> I've written a lot of shinguards lately so I figured I'd start with my real fave, the real MVP, that's right, Zach Spencer.

The frontier.

Only the most daring and hardiest- of any race- exist at at this border between the known and daily danger. 

On an average dark frontier night in one of the orc settlements. The child is a boy, and his father insists that the child takes his family name. Not at all orcish, but his mother acquieses.

Thus the troubled storyline of Zach Spencer begins. 

Orcs grow quickly, half-human ones included, so by the time Zach is seven he is training with his peers.

At six, orcish children are separated from their parents to train. They are taught their place in the world, their ancestry, and most importantly, how to fight. 

A pattern emerges with Zach, though. Daily to every other day, he gets into trouble. 

Quite honestly, he tries to mind his own business and get strong. Well, stronger, because he's already pretty damn tough. 

He's training alone. He normally does now, strength training and form. He's learned sword form, mostly, but right now he's working on strength.

"Oh, look, there he is." 

A small group approaches, watching him. Zach rolls his eyes. 

"Fuck off," he grunts in a cursory manner. He tosses the weights he was using to the side. 

"Look how light his skin is," one (smaller, female) whispers. "He's kind of a runt, isn't he?"

"I can hear you."

"Who cares what you hear, half-breed."

"Shut the fuck up, Khadba-"

"Or what?" 

The challenge makes Zach growl softly.

"He even has a filthy human name."

"What do you know about humans," Zach snaps in return. 

"Are you defending them?" Khadba purrs with an air of superiority. 

"Pathetic. Gods-damned little manspawn-" 

That's when Zach launches himself (with all the fury a relatively small eight year old orc can muster) at his enemy. 

Zach ends up in front of who's essentially their teacher, fresh scars closing on his upper body, while the teacher and a few other older ones debate in orcish. (Zach's functionally bilingual in both orcish and common, as some people like to forget.)

"He's too human," one of the teachers mutters, as if he can't hear. Never one to back down from an insult, Zach bares his teeth slightly at them.

"Look at him, he's a brat."

"A loose cannon even for us."

"Forsaken..."

"Small-"

"He's like a mule-"

"I'll show you runt," Zach growls. "I won't be spoken about like this. It's dishonorable-"

"You're a halfbreed child," one of the adults interrupts, and Zach, half his size, growls in an attempt to be threatening. 

"You are not anything more honorable than that, and don't forget it. This is your place."

"Below you?" Zach growls, then smirks. 

"I'd rather suck an elf's cock than bow to you and call myself less than I am." 

"Believe whatever you'd like, degenerate," the adult growls back, trying to get him to back down. 

"Your ancestors will never be honored by you."

"We'll see about that."

"If only we could beat the human out of him."

"You can gods-damned try, but if you do I'll show you."

Zach is cuffed on the back of the head, to which he reacts with a louder growl.

"Disobedient child."

"Fuck you!"

"Get him out of here."

-

Things don't change much for Zach. The only thing that grows is his resentment towards his people.

He becomes known as a troublemaker, the Mr Wrong. Not that that really attracts the attention of women.

Now he's fifteen, lurking around the buildings of the frontier and snapping at anyone who deigns to try and condescend to him.

He doesn't train anymore, who needs to when any orc of any age thinks that it's good fun to try and catch him off-guard. 

Yeah, laugh at the half-breed. 

"Human." This gets his attention, because there's no one else at the- well, a bar is a good way to describe it- that would even border on that.

"I'm not human." 

"You're not one of us."

"Why'd I wanna be," he snorts back. 

"I'm not like you and I'm not like them. Stronger than both sides though." 

"Getting a little too big for your armor, runt," the speaker says. Zach puts down his drink. 

"Try me, pussy." 

That's how he ends up in a fight (again), one on five, and doing pretty decently.

Come to think of it, he definitely recognizes Khadba and his stupid little gang. He snorts, and wipes away a nosebleed. 

"Is that all you got?"

One of them swings a fist into his jaw.

"Too mouthy, like humans."

-

There's a small hut- somewhere between a tent and a house- on the edge of town, and that's where Zach Spencer holes up for the night, having covered some of his worse wounds. 

He lies down, looking up at the ceiling. 

The thing is, a few years ago, he discovered that his parents were dead, and with them went his last hopes for working his way up at all. He salvaged a few of his mother's things, and set up this base for himself. 

He keeps one hand pressed to his ribs, where he thinks he might be bruised but definitely not broken. 

There's wind outside, and the inside is dark because he hasn't lit a fire yet. No energy. 

He wonders what it would be like to leave the settlement, if humans were just as harsh and hateful. 

The others would almost certainly have him believe that humans can be snapped like a twig. 

Hell, maybe that's a better option than this. 

-

Two nights later, Khadba and his crew are out to screw with him again, but this time he's finally dragged before their chief, nose bleeding and hands bloody. 

"This is the last time we tolerate this insolence from a half-breed," the chief snarls, and Zach tosses back a cocky grin. 

"What're you gonna do, huh?" 

"I want you out of here by sunrise," is the growled response. Zach spits. 

"Done. I'll leave this shithole no contest."

"Get him out of my sight." 

When Zach returns home, Khadba is waiting. They watch him gather some of his things, before Khadba grabs his shoulder. 

"Your whore mother deserves what she got."

Zach pauses, then pulls his bag onto his back.

"Someday I will kill you."

"Not today."

-

Walking, the journey southeast takes weeks. He avoids the forest, and sleeps with one eye open at night, travels non-stop by day, until he reaches a town. 

The sign is in common, and his common-reading is rusty at best. 

He has to sound the syllables out for a moment in gravelly common. 

"Mil-forrd."

He clears his throat. 

"Milford."

He finds the inn too expensive and the owner too hostile, and instead hides in a citizen's barn. 

The hay is better than the ground, anyway. 

The next morning he ventures out and finds the market, which he wanders with fascination, until he spots a meats booth which attracts his attention. 

Imagine his surprise when he sees the seller. 

She has golden hair, and fur, and light greenish blue eyes with slitted vertical pupils. Her fur is dotted with ink-black bits, and she's dressed in pink and red. 

Zach doesn't have a lot of money, but he's convinced to spend a few coins there. 

"You're new," she notes with interest.

"Thinking of staying, now," he admits, his common still accented slightly from lack of practice.

She giggles- truthfully, she finds it cute. 

"Well, welcome to Milford." She hands him his bag of meat. 

"Mindy Hagan."

"Zach Spencer." 

He tries to wink, and she laughs, so he assumes he succeeded. 

"I'll see you around then, Zach Spencer." 

He gives her a little wave as he wanders off. 

And damn, the deer jerky is good.

 


End file.
